Elle Fanning

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"The Duke of Vellington is here, madam." One of the servants announced loudly, his head arching just for the while and then bowing back again in reverence.

The princess held her chin high even though she was not at all enthusiastic to entertain another suitor, as all of them bore a similar sense of pseudo superiority which she was so over with.

She hated that she was bound by the testament of her deceased father- the King who passed away without providing only his daughter and the kingdom another support system. While on his deathbed, he came up with a little test to make sure his daughter chooses the right heir to his throne.

He explained to her, as he laid on his bed- weak and worried, how it worked. There were three caskets, made with three distinguishable materials, one of which had her photo. Anyone with a respectable high rank could present themselves as a suitor to the princess, but to win her over, they had to choose the right casket. The right casket is the one that contained her photo.

Just days after his death, the princess was overwhelmed by the number of men that came to marry her but felt relieved in the end when none of them succeeded. She was not a woman easily impressed- especially by wealth or prestige.

The large iron doors opened, the servants bowed to the Duke and his train of men. The princess straightened her back, recalling the lessons about posture taught in one of her many classes. She discreetly adjusted her gown, her fingers brushing the uncomfortable fabric.

The huge doors were pushed close by the servants, leaving the Duke inside as all his inferior companions remained on the other side of the walls, except one as a witness. He was a tall, handsome man, with extremely soft and feminine features. The princess admitted she preferred him over other masculine men.

But it wasn't up to her to decide the heir to the throne. So her inclination didn't matter.

While dazzled by the young Duke, the princess also wondered why she had never heard of him. She was taught the names and ranks of various persons belonging to neighbouring kingdoms so she could greet them properly if she ever gets to meet them. But she didn't know that Vellington had a Duke- one that looked soft as snow.

The princess was lightly nudged by her lady-in-waiting to remind her to welcome the Duke. The princess, although taught about it various times, was not good at small talk. Talking to the previous suitors definitely helped her condition but after being fascinated with the brown-haired man, she needed a little guidance to spark a conversation.

"We hope you had a comfortable journey, your highness." The lady-in-waiting- Scarlette slightly bowed her head. She was aware of the dislike for greetings and small talk coming from the princess, and so she initiated the talking.

"Yes, thank you." His voice was firm, yet delicate. His dark eyes took in the princess while he fought the smirk growing on his lips. The princess noticed it too and brushed it off as a perverted gesture, his esteem tumbling a little in her regard.

"We shall not delay the proceedings." The princess spoke finally. The Duke was just another suitor to her now, a perverted one at that and she did not wish to spend any extra second with him. Her voice quivered as if she had just run a mile as it rained. Her words appeared to be mushed together, too, apprehensive but still unusual as if she were pouring out her wishes from her mouth involuntarily.

"Before we do so," Scarlette gave the princess a side glance, "The Princess would like to give you your directives."

If she could slap herself on the head, the princess would. Of course, how could she forget? "Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me. There are a few conditions you must abide by before you're led to the casket room." Her voice was confident this time and she was glad she had finally hidden all her weaknesses.

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